Onyx

From the lackluster siding to the sloppy roofing job, Petey’s Tavern had obviously never been a tourist attraction in Gallington. Known for its sleazy music and undesirable crowds, Petey’s Tavern; however, remained crowded most weekend evenings. Of course, it also helped that Petey’s Tavern was also known to give out beer to underage teenagers who were willing to help do the side jobs: boosting cars, dealing drugs or helping the men who ran the tavern relieve their sexual preferences.

Sighing, Aria quickly brushed her fingers through her hair and stalked to her car. Petey’s Tavern was where her mother expected her to work. Petey’s Tavern was a place of absolute hell to a girl like her.

She thought about telling Claire that she was going to work, but she figured that Claire wouldn’t even care. The last time Aria had looked at her, Claire had been knocked out on the couch, an empty wine bottle still clasped in a pale hand.

She would sell me, seethed Aria. What kind of mother uses their only daughter to pay off a debt? Furious, Aria climbed into her car and drove the three short miles to the Tavern. The bar looked even more pathetic when it was daytime. Paint peeled from the siding and the sun revealed squatty windows that hadn’t been cleaned in months; and even from the safety of her car, Aria could still hear the pounding music that emanated from the bar.

Sighing, she locked her car and headed into the dingy building. Even before she reached the door, cigarette smoke and the smell of sweaty bodies permeated the air. Coughing slightly, she opened the door and stood awkwardly inside the door with her hands tucked safely inside of her pockets. She had no idea who she was supposed to talk to or what she was supposed to do.

“Aria, right?” A slightly familiar baritone voice called from across the bar. Turning, Aria glanced across the dimly lit room to recognize a guy she had seen before. She thought he was the bartender, but she wasn’t quite sure. When she had come here after Tommy had died, he had been the guy waiting on her, the one whom had taken her home when she had fallen unconscious. Embarrassed, she began to scuff her shoes on the cheap, wooden floor. “I’m Detroit,” he laughed and offered her his hand. She couldn’t help but notice the way his dark hair curled slightly around his face or the way his dark eyes danced when he smiled. “So you’re the new help?” He questioned.

“Yeah,” Aria tried to smile but found herself grimacing instead.

“It’s not all bad,” Detroit comforted, “you get free drinks when you’re off, and I mean, you already made friends with the coolest person here,” he chuckled. Aria smiled and glanced at him. He was very cute. “Well, I may as well as give you the grand tour.” Grabbing her hand, Detroit led her slowly to the kitchen.